First Presbyterian Church
Knowing Hope
Sermon for October 31, 2004
by Pastor Susan Barnes

Today is All Hallow's Eve, Halloween, but we celebrate All Saints Day today. Next Sunday just seemed too long to wait to celebrate, so we do it a day early. On All Saints Day we read the list of those we know who have died since last All Saints Day. Remembering people is vital for our well-being. Keeping their memory alive connects us to past generations, and keeps us hopeful that people will remember us.

‘Saint' isn't a title we commonly use at First Presbyterian Church. ‘Saint' seems like such an unattainable goal; we speak of someone as a saint when one has undergone great suffering or put up with a terrible situation. But one definition of a saint is a person of faith. Paul, in his writings, talked about Christians as saints. The literal translation of saint is holy one. Who among us would dare claim that we are holy? Not too many of us. But when we are in relationship with God, we are holy; we have been sanctified by Jesus Christ in our baptisms. Holiness isn't something we ought to claim, it's something we try to live up to. The beatitudes offer us some advice on how to do that, on how to be blessed , holy, happy.

Many of you know Matthew's account of the sermon on the mount. But our reading is from the gospel of Luke. Luke portrays Jesus preparing the way by making the crooked straight, the high low, the rough places smooth.

Luke speaks to a culture built upon favors that one did for one's inferiors or superiors. One achieved social status by doing favors for someone else. Owing someone anything decreased one's status. So, in Luke's gospel, Jesus speaks not from a lofty mountain, but a common plain. Jesus describes that realm of God as something not just to look forward to when we die, but to live toward now. The holy people of God behave as if we already were in that heavenly community. Listen for the word of God as it is found in the gospel according to Luke 6:20-31.

Then he looked up at his disciples and said:

"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God .

21 "Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled .

"Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.

22 "Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man.

23 Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.

24 "But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.

25 "Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry.

"Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep.

26 "Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.

27 "But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,

28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.

29 If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt.

30 Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.

31 Do to others as you would have them do to you.

Anthem: Sine Nomine

I have received much care from the congregation this month. I appreciate it. Some of you knew I have been spending a lot of time with Jim Monroe and his sons and Joel Waldo and his wife Cindy, as both men slowly succumbed to lung cancer. A week ago Friday, I was with Joel when he died in late afternoon. That night I was with Tom and Ross when Jim's breathing pattern slowed, and sped up, and slowed and sped up. We all stayed until about 11:00pm . And Jim died early Saturday morning. I think he was waiting to be alone to pass away. I was with his sons that morning when Jim was taken away by his good friend Roger Coles. And so I was able to say my good-byes and pray with the families.

And then I got in Bill Fessel's car and he drove me to Milton-Freewater where I moderated presbytery, led a workshop, and preached . That night I preached about grief, and hope, and help. In the morning, I did a dialogue sermon with Ginger Johnston on prayer, finished up presbytery, and Bill drove me home. I was grateful I could fulfill the commitments I made to the presbytery, and still got to say good-by to Jim and to Joel.

Many of you have asked me if I'm all right, and if I was getting enough rest. Lots of people at presbytery asked me the same question. I promise I will take some time off next week. I appreciate everyone's concern for me.

But the truth is, it's been hard on all of us. We didn't like seeing people we love suffer. We didn't want them to die. Both families talked a lot of theology with me. They spoke of life and death and God's love, and hope. They spoke of the care they have received from this congregation, the overwhelming love they have felt from food, prayers, cards, visits, chores, and notes. It's hard to be on the receiving end of so much care sometimes. How can it be repaid? These families just said thank you.

In the realm of God, no one tries to even the score, because God gives us more points than we could ever imagine. Paul reminds the church what we believe, and why it matters. Listen for the word of God as it is found in these words full of hope in Ephesians 1:11-23.

11 In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will, 12 so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory. 13 In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit; 14 this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God's own people, to the praise of his glory.

15 I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, and for this reason 16 I do not cease to give thanks for you as I remember you in my prayers. 17 I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, 18 so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened , you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, 19 and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power. 20 God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, 21 far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come. 22 And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, 23 which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.

This ends our reading of God's word.

The golden rule in the beatitudes , “do to others as you would have them do to you” isn't unique to Christianity.

There's a Buddhist saying, “Hurt not others in ways that you yourself would find hurtful. (Udana Varpi 5:18.) Rabbi Hillel said, “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor; that is the entire torah, the rest is commentary; go and learn it. (Talmud, Shabbat 31A) In Islam, “no one of you is a believer until you desire for another that which you desire for yourself.” (Sunnah). In Hinduism, “This is the sum of all duty; treat others as you yourself would be treated .”

But what is different for Christians is that we have a savior who practiced what he preached. He did turn the other cheek, loved his enemies, and did good to those who hated him. Jesus showed us the way. On the way to the cross, he was beaten; afterwards they cast lots to see who would win his stolen clothing, and he didn't condemn those who crucified him, but said, “Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And so it is this same man, Jesus, who tells us “Do to others as you would have them do to you.”

Paul speaks about knowing hope in Christ.

Theologian Walter Brueggeman said, “People who hope are not people who have a vague sense that things will work out all right. People who hope are those who know the name of God and God's characteristics: ‘chesed ,' steadfast love; ‘rehamim,' compassion; and ‘amunah,' faithfulness….

People who hope have complete confidence in God's coming shalom, a rule of order, peace, security, justice, and abundance. Without denying any present disorder or confusion or distortion, people who hope and watch and wait and pray and expect know that God's shalom is as good as done. People who hope are people who act in the conviction that God's future is reliably present-tense and therefore act upon it before it is fully in hand. ….[And so what happens if] God's future is secure?” (1) Neighborliness happens.

Here's one example of neighborliness, and the blessings that came of it. North Presbyterian Church in Cleveland, Ohio had 900 members when the neighborhood was flush with businesses and factories worked by Slovenians and other European immigrants. Over the years, as the jobs left the city and parishioners followed, church membership dropped to its current three dozen or so.

Two years ago, a woman named Gwen Scott formed a choir there. The choir began after she discovered the church while arranging to use its kitchen. She cooked meals to distribute twice a week in needy neighborhoods via her Community Food Mobile.

Not being Presbyterian, but raised a Baptist with her own "Lift Up Jesus" ministry … didn't seem to matter when it came to a project that might give hope to the homeless and a struggling urban church as well. She said "I'll be whatever I need to be. We're all God's children."

The church already had an outreach to homeless men and women living in nearby shelters, who have helped fill empty pews since the 116-year-old church fell on lean times. A choir, Gwen figured, could be just the rejuvenating ticket for the church and homeless alike.

She told a reporter interviewing her at choir practice, "Just because they're homeless doesn't mean they can't get involved in the church. They have gifts and talents, too," she says. "For those who stay committed to singing, this could give them a sense of responsibility, something to look forward to. This could be a way out for them."

She'd get a few amens to that from homeless choir members including Lincoln Smith, 42, who says, "I may not have a home, but I know I got the Lord." Or Darrin Smith, 37, who says singing for the choir "helps me get my thoughts together, think positive, you know."

Katie Sprouse, 79, of Cleveland, a 43-year North Presbyterian Church member, says, "This is what a church is supposed to be all about. We have to take care of each other." At the Thursday rehearsal, five of the seven singers were homeless. Only one was Presbyterian.

The next Sunday, a choir visited from Willoughby First Presbyterian Church. They shared their majestic voices in Sunday worship.

The North choir, including Lincoln, Darrin, Katie, and Gwen, was supposed to sing after that. Gwen … didn't seem worried that the event had all the makings of a lopsided choral showdown.

"We're all here to make a joyful noise unto the Lord. It's not important who sings better," she says. "Besides, I want them [the Willoughby choir] to see what Jesus is doing with his people. That's all that matters."

They are ready on Sunday morning. Except for their newest member, Twila, with a lovely voice, but very shy. She stands, then sits back down.

Gwen hustles over, speaking in a low voice. "You come on up here, and just remember you're giving glory to God. You're not here to compete with anybody."

Twila sits for a moment, then joins the choir in a hallelujah-raising performance that gains strength with each minute, through a heartfelt "Kum ba ya" and a once-again resilient "Welcome, Holy Spirit," riding on the mighty tones of a church pipe organ.

And if anyone thought the Willoughby choir would be sitting in the pews, stifling smug snickers while listening to these amateurs, they would have been totally wrong.

The suburban singers smile and nod. A few start clapping, keeping the beat - softly at first, then building, row by row, until the entire sanctuary and nearly 100 people rock with the rhythm. Children spring to their feet, dancing at their seats. The sound buffets the balcony, drifts out the windows to smokers puffing in the parking lot, as the little choir cranks up the volume, throwing exuberant hands in the air.

As the last note fades and folks look around as if checking for damage, even Gwen can only muster an exhausted but appreciative "Whoa!"

Later, in the church's basement dining hall, Gwen and her choir gather with church members and homeless guests for a post-worship meal of pork 'n' beans. Gwen starts humming, then softly singing to herself. Soon, other choir members join in; their voices once again rising, embracing the room in a musical hug. "Welcome, Holy Spirit. We are in your presence. Fill us with your power. Live in all of us." (2)

People who know hope act upon that hope, and share it with others.

Many of us wanted to do more for Jim and for Joel, but we couldn't. We can't all be hospice nurses or doctors. We can't help the boys sort through their father's house. But you are a praying congregation. You show up. You pray together. You sit in a pew and sing loud enough so the shy person next to you can hide her voice in yours. Or you know your joyful noise is more noise than joy, and so you listen instead. You can be a congregation that is here Sunday after Sunday, ready to welcome grieving people in with a quiet word, or just a smile.

We can acknowledge someone's grief and say, “I'm sorry.” We can send cards and e-mails. And we can cook. We can cook a lot. This week about 200 people found out we can cook, and we can also welcome food that is cooked by others who can cook. And so today we remember Jim and Joel by having a potluck lunch where no one has to bring any food. It's all here. You would be doing everyone in the kitchen a favor if you stayed to eat with us. We will share a meal, and we will share hope, and we will feel the spirit moving among us with comfort as we remember the saints among us.

Amen.

(1) Brueggemann, Walter, “Hope in the Face of Loss,” Other Side, March /April 1999. p. 49.

(2) Albrecht, Brian E. “Giving Voice to faith and hope,” Presbyterian News Service, Sept. 27, 2002 , first published by the Plain Dealer.